Traitor
by Tyeth
Summary: This wasn't a time for compromise. It was eat or be eaten; and not everyone would survive. Thechoices you made, the choices you had to make, weren't easy. Nightmares haunt you for the rest of your living days. But now you are facing a life sentence in Azkaban, and you have but one chance to convince the Wizengamot of the truth: That this was all for the greater good.
1. Prologue

Azkaban. Even without the dementors around, despair lingered within its' stone walls. Three months she had been stuck there, staring out of the top-floor window at the raging storm outside. Three months since the end of the war, since the Chosen One had defeated the Dark Lord. Three months and the Dark Mark was still there on her arm, taunting her. No amount of makeup, magic, or brute force would get rid of it.

"Rebecca, you ready?"

She gave Kingsley a weak smile, slowly standing up, "as ready as I'll ever be."

Today was her trial. She would not only have to face the Wizengamot, but the larger wizarding world; and, she would have to face them alone.

It wasn't the crowd that scared her, nor the possibility of having to spend a lifetime in that cell. No, she was scared of herself; of the memories and secrets she would have to admit to.

"Bring her in."

The iron doors opened with a blast of cold air as two Aurors moved to flank the young girl. Standing at 5'6", she couldn't have been much older than 18; however, her deep-set hazel eyes showed a much older soul. A tired soul. She sat down on the chair, the chains immediately strapping her in.

The courtroom was full of people murmuring to each other. No friends or family sat on the sidelines to break into quiet sobs.

"Rebecca Irene Myers," the man in the centre podium spoke, "you have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law for the following crimes," he cleared his voice, and the young girl raised her head, shaking her long, matted, auburn locks out of her pale face, to meet his stony eyes. "For, through your own free volition, serving You-Know-Who; for multiple uses of the Unforgivable curses; and, for being an accomplice in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. I have here that you have pled guilty to these crimes. Is this correct?"

"That is correct," she said, licking her cracked pale lips, her voice hoarse.

"We have already heard the evidence against you. Crimes like these usually call for a life sentence in Azkaban. However, you have asked to be excused from this sentencing due to 'extenuating circumstances.' The Wizengamot now asks you to put forth evidence, or at least provide good reasons as to why we should drop all charges. Are you prepared to offer such evidence?"

The young girl's eyes flickered, surveying those staring at her. They fell into an uneasy silence, watching her every move: a twitch of her eyebrow, her shuffling as she sat up straight. After a pause, a faint smile graced her lips and the onlookers froze.

"I am."


	2. Chapter 1

_**"Hey, Rebecca!"**_

 _ **"What?"**_

 _ **"Study hard."**_

 _ **"Did you really call me out just to tell me that?"**_

 _ **"Well, I have a bet going against Lucius. I do kinda need you to outscore his kid."**_

 _ **"Dad… again?"**_

 _ **"It worked last time."**_

 _ **"Of course it worked, I'm amazing."**_

 _ **"So, kick Malfoy's ass, will you?"**_

 _ **"I will. Love you, Dad."**_

 _ **"Love you too, Cripsy."**_

 _ **"Dad!"**_

 _ **The man had laughed wholeheartedly, giving his daughter a firm slap on the back before sending her off on the Hogwarts Express.**_

That was at the end of Christmas break. It was only six months ago. How could this be happening?

"Miss Myers, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"You have the wrong man."

"I'm afraid we are quite certain it was him. I went to confirm the body myself."

"No. My father… my father was no Death Eater."

Dumbledore sighed softly, his head hanging slightly.

"How did he die?"

"Ms Myers-"

"I said, how did he die!?" She rose to her feet, the chair behind her falling with a bang.

"It was the killing curse."

"Shit… shit… shit!" She paced around the room, her fingers grabbing at the roots of her hair. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. It was a nightmare. In a few short minutes, she'd wake up, back in her dormitory bed. She grabbed the fallen chair, and before she realized what she was doing, launched it against the wall. "Oh Merlin– I'm so sorry, Professor."

"Don't fret," Dumbledore smiled placidly, waving his wand and returning everything to its original condition.

She grabbed on to the chair again, staring blankly at the desk in front of her. Her father would have won the bet… she had written the letter that morning to tell him. Now, she'd never be able to see his proud smile.

"Ms Myers, could you please sit down? I'm afraid there is quite a lot we need to talk about."

Slowly, she did, but her professor's words seemed distant.

"Your father was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

She closed her eyes tightly, burrowing her head in the palms of her hand. How did she get here?

•·················•·················•

"Ugh… my clothes stink. And these robes were freshly washed, mind you!" Theo groaned, scrunching his face after sniffing his sleeve, "doesn't Professor Snape know that we don't all want to smell like him?"

"Just be glad that was our last lesson of the day." Rebecca groaned, regretting smelling her own clothes, "and that the common room is nearby."

"I smell fine…"

"Blaise, that is because you're literally made of sunflowers and rainbows."

"Oh look, there's the Malfoy. Have fun with Mad-Eye?" Theo called out to the approaching blonde.

Malfoy grumbled, "No. I don't understand why he had me stay for an hour after class – Merlin's beard you stink. Stay away, I don't want your mudblood stench on me."

"I'll have you know that Theo smells worse than me, inbreed," Rebecca snorted, crossing her arms. "And you'll smell just as bad once you go through remedial potions."

"Anyway," Daphne spoke up, wisely cutting off a response from Malfoy, "what did Professor Moody want?"

"Same thing he asked Theo the other day: he just asked about my family and talked a lot to himself. Something along the lines of a leopard can't change his spots, and that an apple doesn't fall far from the tree… I stopped listening 10 minutes in."

"You know he wants our heads, right?" Theo said, walking backwards to look at the group. "The man has it in for us. He's going to go through all of Slytherin house, one by one. And once he finds a weak link… BAM!"

Daphne flinched, yelping slightly at Theo's sudden explosion of noise. "Don't do that!" she chastised, reaching forward to slap the thin boy's shoulder.

"Well, at least he hasn't caught anyone yet," Draco noted, slipping his hands into his pockets as Pansy took ahold of his arm.

"Says the amazing bouncing ferret…" Rebecca murmured, glancing mischievously at Daphne, who swallowed down her laughter.

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

"You know we're never going to let you forget about that, right?" Theo said, grinning brightly.

"And I'll never let you forget how you set your bed on fire to get rid of a spider."

"Don't forget that the spider got away, Malfoy," Rebecca added in a whisper just loud enough for Theo to hear.

"I hate you. I hate all of you."

"Ah, well. It's not like any of us liked you in the first place," Malfoy taunted, his grin widening as Theo's eyebrows furrowed more and more.

Rebecca watched with a raised eyebrow as Theo and Malfoy dashed along the corridor, shouting violently at each other. Blaise and Pansy had exchanged exasperated glances before picking up the pace, hoping to intercept the likely fight.

"Hey, Becca?"

"What's up?"

"Do you think Professor Moody is going to want to talk to me?" Daphne's voice was soft and scared, as she kept her eyes on the ground ahead of her. "My father… he's been acting odd since the Quidditch World Cup."

Rebecca didn't respond immediately. The Quidditch World Cup had taken place around two weeks ago, and everyone was still trying to process what had happened. Rebecca had attended the event with Daphne and her family, the memory swirled to the forefront of her mind.

 _ **Everyone was running; fear and confusion showed on their faces. Tents were on fire, staining the sky a brilliant orange. Death Eaters marched together in the distance. Rebecca had been holding Astoria, Daphne's second-year sister, when she ran off ahead out of Rebecca's grip. The younger girl fell, twisting her ankle in the Death Eaters' path. Rebecca summoned a shield charm just in time to protect Astoria from a stunning spell, then immediately sent an offensive spell towards the wizard who cast it.**_

 _ **She could still remember that feeling of pure adrenaline coursing through her veins as the Death Eater was sucked into the ground. Rebecca had just pulled Astoria into her arms when she locked eyes with one of the masked men's vibrant blue eyes; the same blue as Daphne and Astoria's.**_

She looked over at her friend, how she shuffled her hands uncomfortably, avoiding any eye contact with passing students.

"I'm sure he's just worried," Rebecca smiled, placing a comforting hand on Daphne's back, "he loves you two very much. The thought of another war would make any parent nervous."

"But, Becca… what if… what if he's one of them?"

"He's not. If he was, he wouldn't have agreed to let me stay with you, right? But he passed the Myers-muggle-born test."

Daphne nodded, a smile finally crossing her lips, "Yeah…"

"If Mad-Eye wants to talk to you, tell him the truth. You've done nothing wrong, nor have your parents. He can't do anything. Alright?"

"Alright."

"Now, we better hurry. I want to get dressed and still make it to dinner on time."

She could still remember the mark – the green skull and snake – in the sky above. Something in her had changed ever since she saw that mark, and even now she couldn't quite put a finger on what. There was this new clicking in her brain as if there had been a motor that had been turned off and suddenly now its gears were starting to run. It was an odd feeling, staring up at the mark. She wasn't scared of it, but she wasn't happy either... queasy was the best word she could come up with to describe it.

That night, Rebecca's father finally responded to her letter about what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup. And it was about time, too.

* * *

 _Heya Honey,_

 _Oh, man did that sound intense! All of it, the Quidditch match and the 'Death Eaters.' But I'm glad you still had fun, and that you're ok, obviously. Did they catch the people responsible for it in the end?_

 _When you come home for Christmas I'll teach you how to land a few good punches. I know it's not the same as 'magic' but I bet you those wizards won't know what hit them, literally. I don't know if I'll be able to practice all those quidditch moves with you, on account that I a) don't know what they are, and b) can't fly. But we'll figure something out!_

 _Guess what? Ms Sandra, the blonde lady that works above me? Asked me out for coffee. Do we give it a thumbs up or thumbs down?_

 _Also – could you send me a copy of the daily prophet? I am allowed to have one, right? Not breaking any rules with that?_

 _Don't forget to tell me what crackhead they've put in as your, I want to say Defence Against the Dark Arts (?) Professor!_

 _Love,_

 _Dad_

 _P.S. Are you sure there's no way of sending me these letters via the normal postal service? The neighbours are starting to complain about my reactions to the owls…_

* * *

A soft smile spread across Rebecca's face as she re-read the letter, resting her head against the glass. Folding up the letter, she glanced out to the depths of the lake.

"Letter from home?"

Rebecca turned to look as Theo sat down next to her, "yeah. From the Father."

"Hmm, lucky. My old man never sends me any letters."

"I'm sure it's just that he doesn't have time to write anything."

Theo shrugged, "what did your dad say?"

"Oh, nothing much. Told him about what happened at the Quidditch World cup."

"Brave…"

"Nah, he's really chill about this stuff. And I'm evidently okay so… Also, I reckon it'd be more dangerous not to tell him and have him find out from some other, less reliable, source."

"Or a less manipulatable source."

"Yes, Theo. This way I can manipulate what my father thinks about all this."

Theo grinned, but his face turned to one of disgust as he spotted Malfoy and Parkinson making out on the couch. "Ugh… Get a fucking room you two!"

"Let them be…"

"It's still the start of term, okay? I don't want that to be what I have to see all year."

"Hmm…"

"By the way, could you steal some ageing potions for me?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No, Theo. Not even if it would actually work. We don't even know what security measures will be enforced for the champion selection process yet."

"Fine. Could you at least ask your father to send a batch of those chocolate muffins he makes?"

"With extra frosting for my little Rabbit?"

"...Yes please."


	3. Chapter 2

_Hey Honey,_

 _Wow. Another letter so soon after term has started? What have I done to deserve such spectacular treatment? However, again with the owl. Though I will give my approval of your choice of using a scops owl. Scops or Barn, no Eagle Owls. I will say that the little fellow did not seem too pleased about having to return with the box of muffins…_

 _I added an extra tub of frosting for Rabbit. Though do tell him to be careful – do wizards still get diabetes or cavities? Because if he really does eat all of that sugary goodness… he will get both._

 _So, this 'Mad-Eye Moody' is your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? Quite a nickname if you ask me… don't know if I'd want anyone calling me 'Mad-Eye Myers' but hey, to each their own. I wouldn't pay too much attention to this whole 'interrogating students' thing he's got going on. I doubt you'll get called in, but if you do, it's probably a good sign that he's not discriminating based on blood-status! If Professor Moody really did used to capture Dark Wizards – make sure to pay full attention to his lessons! Real world skills right there – useful even in the muggle world._

 _I agreed to go out for coffee with Ms Sandra, as you suggested… eh? I give it a solid B-. I know, I know. You'll say that I'm too picky and that your mother passed away years ago but… hey, she's a difficult act to follow! And will you let me say something cheesy (and even if you won't, this is a written letter so you can't stop me. Ha!), you, Rebecca, are all I need 3 3_

 _Love you,_

 _Dad_

* * *

"Hey, Becca? Could you show me what you did for question 4?"

Rebecca nodded, setting her quill down and sliding her parchment across the table towards Hermione. "It's a tricky one, that question."

Hermione gave a muffled grunt in agreement as she took the paper, her eyes darting in between Rebecca's and her own work. "How did you get the answer for column 43C?"

Rebecca leaned over, peering at the paper around the witch's bushy hair, "Umm… you carry the number from 42H, and then apply the Alcott Principle using 41E as your modifier. I used the standard chart C-122 Professor Vector gave us in class last week as the base."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes leaving the number chart to stare at Rebecca, "But the textbook says to use D-122, as it's a doomsday calculation."

"Yeah… I just think the textbook is wrong on this one."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, severely unconvinced. "You get the same result using D-122."

"Yes… but you have to go through 3 more rounds of substitutions, and honestly, who was time for that?"

"That's the beauty of it! You get such a lovely pattern at the end of it."

"Hermione, you've got to know by now that I don't share your passion for Arithmancy… I'm only taking the class because my father wanted me to."

"Shame. You're good at it," Hermione mused, returning Rebecca's parchment.

"I put it up to genetics," Rebecca said softly as she rolled up her assignment, glancing up at Hermione before adding, "you're the real genius."

The Gryffindor girl blushed, smiling sheepishly, "You're too kind, Becca."

"I would have failed Astrology multiple times if it wasn't for you."

Hermione's response was drowned out by the slamming of books, the thumping of feet, and a wave of high pitched squeals as Viktor Krum entered the library. Instantly, he was surrounded by girls and boys alike.

In almost perfect unison, Hermione and Rebecca both let out annoyed groans, rubbing their temples as they burrowed their faces in their books to avoid Madam Pince's scornful glare.

"So loud… I wish he'd stop coming to the library, it is impossible to concentrate with all these extra people."

"Oh, you can't blame them. It's the Viktor Krum: the world's best seeker."

"Hmm…"

"If it wasn't because he sits with the Slytherins for meals, I'd be trying to catch him alone too."

"You?"

"Minus the screaming, of course. I've got more self-respect to do that. Theo and I are trying to work up the confidence to invite Krum to play a 2-a-side match with us before the tournament is over."

"You quidditch players are all the same…"

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Hermione… and at least I'm not actively fawning over him," Rebecca mumbled, returning to her work.

"By the way…" Hermione finally murmured after a few minutes of uncomfortable shuffling, "Could I ask a favour?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you try to get Malfoy and the other Slytherins to back off a bit? Harry he's… a little bit depressed over everything that's happening."

"Hermione, I don't know…"

"You don't honestly believe that Harry put the name in the Goblet, right?"

Rebecca shrugged, "I'm not sure what to think. It does sound like the kind of thing Potter would do."

"Okay, contrary to popular belief, Harry doesn't go looking for fame and popularity."

"Yet everything that happens in this school always seems to loop back to him."

"He doesn't do it on purpose, it's just bad luck."

"Bad luck happens once or twice. We're on round number four. He deserves whatever happens to him. You Gryffindors all think the rules don't apply to you."

"You really sound like Malfoy right now," Hermione glowered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah, well. Malfoy has a point. Imagine how it feels for the rest of us, watching Potter break the rules yearly and get rewarded for it.

"That's not Harry's fault."

"Hmm," Rebecca's attention was fixed on her essay, Hermione watching as her quill glided across the page, her left hand fingers rhythmically tapping against the table. Finishing the paragraph she was working on, Rebecca set the quill down, leant back, and looked at Hermione, her arms crossed. "How do you think Potter got chosen for the triwizard tournament?"

"I don't know, I think someone is trying to set him up. All I know is that Harry did not put his name in the goblet."

"You're sure of this?"

"Yes."

"And you trust Potter?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Rebecca leaned back, picking up her quill and resuming her essay, "I'll see what I can do about the other Slytherins."

Hermione blinked, taken aback slightly. "Just like that?"

"What do you mean, 'just like that?'" Rebecca asked, smiling softly.

"You've just told me that Harry deserves whatever he has coming. Why help me?"

"I trust you, and you trust Potter. Therefore, I'll trust your judgement of him. I don't have to agree to his methods to help you."

"Thank you, Harry'll–"

"I'm doing this for you, Hermione. Not Potter, not yet at least. Though, the moment proof comes out that he put his name in the goblet…"

"I'll be very shocked if such proof does come out…"

* * *

With a last push, Rebecca sped up, sprinting up the steep hill. Crossing the lone oak tree at the top, she came to a stop, breathing heavily. Heart thumping and muscles burning, Rebecca smiled as she looked out at the vast lake spread out bellow. The setting sun's rays glimmered on the water's surface, almost blinding her.

This was Rebecca's favourite time of the day, being outside of the castle's walls enjoying the fresh air helped her wind down and relax. Catching her breath, she made her way down the hill to the water's edge. As she approached, Rebecca noticed that there was a black outline of a figure there, sitting on the grass.

"Malfoy?"

"Myers?" the blonde boy turned to look at Rebecca, "what are you doing out here?"

"Just finished my afternoon run. Mind if I join you?"

Draco nodded, "no wonder you're so sweaty…"

"Hmph." Rebecca snorted, sitting down on the grass next to Malfoy, "How about you, what brings you out at this hour?"

Malfoy shrugged, looking out at the lake. "I needed some quiet."

"Has Theo seen a spider again and is destroying the common room?"

Malfoy laughed softly, "No... he's too busy drawing pictures of ferrets and slipping them into my

textbooks."

Rebecca stifled a laugh when she met Malfoy's glare. She would make sure to help Theo out later.

"I've never seen you spend this much time thinking, Malfoy. Did you get hit in the head with a bludger over the summer or something?"

"Ha ha."

They were quiet, looking as the sun crossed the horizon. It was Malfoy who broke the silence, "how do you manage to be friends with the Gryffindors?"

"By being nice and not making fun of their mothers," she shrugged. "And also, it's not like you and the other Slytherins gave me much of a choice the first year and a half."

"Hmm..."

"Y'all were real assholes my first year here."

"Your wand kept exploding."

"Yes, and the upper years still call me Crispy," Rebecca grumbled, crossing her arms, "but you know that wasn't what I was referring to."

"A mudblood–"

"Malfoy."

"A muggle-born in the noble house of Slytherin..." he shook his head.

"... blazing a new path through unseen territory," Rebecca finished Malfoy's sentence for him, meeting his unblinking gaze of disbelief with a puffed out chest. He rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"I know you love me, you're just too stubborn to admit it," she said with a grin.

Malfoy let out a disbelieving snort.

"Just you wait Blondie, I'll get you to like me, too. I cracked Pansy and Theo. It's only a matter of time till I get through to you."

"How? Throwing Quaffles at me till I sustain enough brain damage?"

"I accidentally hit you one time. One time."

"I have a scar, see? Right here."

"No you don't, you drama queen."

The two sat there on the ground in silence for a few minutes, neither one speaking.

"Mind if I ask what you're thinking about?"

"Life."

"That... that is a very deep subject, Malfoy. Could you get a bit more specific?"

Malfoy shrugged, "Potter."

"My dude, you have an unhealthy obsession with the kid. Are you sure you don't just have a crush on him?"

"What!? No!"

"Hey, I'm not judging. I'm just saying what I see."

Malfoy gave a disgusted snort, looking away from Rebecca, "I suppose I'm jealous."

"Wait, are you actually going to tell me what you're thinking?"

"Look, mudblood, do you want to know what I'm thinking or not?"

"Yes, inbreed, I do. I'll shut up."

Malfoy paused for a minute before speaking again. "It's always 'Potter this' and 'Potter that.' His mere existence is cause for celebration. Potter, youngest Quidditch player in a century; Potter, the boy who lived; and now Potter, the Triwizard Tournament competitor. He isn't even that good of a student. Even you get better marks…"

"Why do I feel like that was a small side blow to me?"

"That's because it was."

"Cheers, mate."

"You know, no matter how many hours I spend studying or practising, all I hear my father say is 'you're not good enough,' and how I am a 'shame to our family' because bloody Mudbloods gets higher marks than me."

"Malfoy..."

"But that's just it! To everyone, I'm just a 'Malfoy,' a boy whose only outstanding feature is how much money my family has."

"I think there's more to you than just money… For a pig-headed fool, you're actually relatively smart. You're a pretty good Quidditch player, probably one of the best on the team."

"We both know that that is not hard to achieve in the Slytherin Quidditch Team."

Rebecca shrugged, "You also make a good ferret."

"... is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"To be honest Draco, you and I don't talk much. I'm working with limited information here. Most of our interactions involve you calling me a mudblood and me calling you an inbreed."

Draco snorted.

"Draco, you can be whoever you want to be. You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps. Perhaps, we could start with you not calling me a mudblood and I'll stop calling you and inbreed?"

When Malfoy remained silent, she knew that she wasn't going to get a response or any more information out of him. "Well. As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I'm afraid I have Runes homework."

"Already?"

"Yup. I have so many regrets..." Rebecca sighed, pausing for a second, "by the way, Malfoy. If you ever need to chat... I'm all ears. You might want to go back to the common room soon, though. I'm pretty sure your girlfriend will cave your head in if you don't get in before nightfall."

As she kept walking, she was pretty sure she heard Malfoy groan.

That night, as soon as Rebecca finished her assignments, she ran around with Theo and Pansy, hiding as many ferret-related items as they could around the common room. Malfoy would be finding them for months. He wasn't happy, to say the least.


	4. Chapter 3

_It's Crispy!_

 _Alright. I tried the butterbeer you sent. It is… what is the best way to describe it? Very buttery. So buttery you could, on a very cold day, go outside and pour it out, leave it for a few hours, and have a block of butter. An actual block of normal butter. Also – how is the wizarding world not full of diabetics?_

 _Alright. This Triwizard Tournament sounds dangerous... I must admit I am not too thrilled with the idea of it. Stay away from the Durmstrang Headmaster, okay? I read the blurb on him in this week's daily prophet you sent and he sounds like bad news. Stay out of trouble and concentrate on your studies._

 _Anyway. I'll see you next week! It's Christmas! And don't forget, bring some every-flavoured beans, please? I'm out._

 _Love,_

 _Dad_

 _P.S. Don't forget to send pictures of the Yule Ball!_

* * *

"Theo!" Rebecca called out, hopping down the stairs that led to the common room. She, on Blaise's recommendation, was wearing a beautiful emerald dress that brought out the color in her eyes. It had a sweetheart neckline, with off-shoulder straps. Its A-line cut accentuated her hips, the black lace giving it a touch of elegance.

"Ey, I was wondering when my date was going to arrive," Theo chirped, putting on a heavy posh accent as he extended his arm for her. "You look lovely, madam."

"Well, thank you, kind sir," she responded with a grin, imitating Theo's accent and taking his arm, "you like quite dashing yourself."

"So, what would you like to do? Behave or pull a Fred and George?"

"I feel like no matter what I say you'll not want to behave..."

"Ah, you know me so well."

"How about we compromise and do something in between?"

"Sounds like my kind of night."

"Anyone seen Blaise?" Daphne asked, having just finished helping Crabbe and Goyle with their bowties and sending them off with a pat before joining Rebecca and Theo on their way to the Great Hall.

"Oh, he's already gone to meet up with his date." Theo responded with a small smirk.

"His date?" Rebecca blinked, turning to look at Theo. "I didn't know he had one."

"Yeah, he asked some Hufflepuff out. MacMillan?"

"Our Blaise?"

"Yup."

"Our lone-wolf, depressed, narcissistic Blaise?"

"Yup."

"Damn, that Hufflepuff kid must be something."

"Anyway, I need to go find my date. You two will behave while I'm not around, right?" Daphne asked, brushing stray cat hairs off the blue fabric of her dress.

"You know we will," Theo proclaimed, standing straight and puffing his chest out.

"You know I will," corrected Rebecca, her eyebrow raising slightly at Theodore. Daphne simply rolled her eyes, sympathetically patting Rebecca's shoulder before leaving and vanishing into the gathering crowd. A squeal a few moments later alerted them to the arrival of Pansy, who ran across the hallway into Draco's arms.

"Whoa," Theo murmured, "that dress is very pink… like sickly pink."

"Shh… For one night, Theo, please try and have manners," Rebecca whispered back before waving at the pair as they approached, "you look lovely, Pansy."

"Thank you," Pansy smiled brightly, "it's nice to be able to get out of those itchy uniforms for a change."

"Oh tell me about it..." Rebecca murmured, letting out a soft sigh.

"The Beauxbaton students have it so nice, I had never been jealous of another school's uniform until I met them."

"Hmm. I must be honest I'm more partial to the Durmstrang uniform. It looks so warm and cozy," Rebecca turned to look at Draco, whose unusual quietness had caught her attention. "You're looking quite noble."

"Of course I am," Draco smirked, "You don't look half as bad yourself, Myers."

"Becca, Becca," Theo said excitedly, poking Rebecca's shoulder repeatedly, "You got a compliment from Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy."

"I know, mark the day, Theo. We can't forget or let him forget this moment: the day a Malfoy gave a muggle-born a compliment."

Draco gave an aggravated groan, his eyes rolling so far back that they threatened to go into the back of his head. Grabbing Pansy's hand, he dragged her away from the smirking duo. Not that he got very far, as Theo made sure to stay on Draco's heels.

The Great Hall had been transformed for the occasion: no longer were there house tables, but multiple smaller, round, glass tables, leaving room for the dance floor. At the far end, the Christmas trees were larger and better decorated than usual, enchanted snow falling in between the icicles from the ceiling.

"Wow... it's beautiful," Pansy murmured with a bright smile, her eyes wide as she spun around on the spot, only regaining her composure when Draco held her still as the Champions walked past.

"Hey, guys, look at the Granger girl," Theo nudged the group quietly, "she's with Krum."

Draco and Pansy were quiet, both having a look of awe on their face. Leaning over, Rebecca whispered with a slight tone of pride in Theo's ear, "I did her hair-"

"Oh, I should have you do my hair."

"You barely have any hair, Theo. There isn't much I can do to help you fix that rabbit fluff."

Theo snorted. When the champions finished their dance, Theo turned to face Rebecca, exaggeratedly bowing, "may I have this dance, m'lady?"

"You may."

While the two started dancing properly, the goofiness in Theo started to show as the night went on. By the end, they had no regard to what the 'proper' choreography was, opting to do, really, whatever felt fun. Rebecca could feel McGonagall's disapproving glare, but on the other side, she saw Dumbledore smiling, so she figured they were in the clear. After causing some havoc on the dance floor, the two left laughing and exhausted.

"I'll go fetch us some drinks," Theo said after catching his breath. Rebecca nodded, watching him vanish into the crowd.

Standing at the far end, she leant back against the wall, silently observing the other students. In her mind, she subconsciously started counting the dancers, house-elves, and song beats. She spotted Daphne dancing with her Durmstrang date, laughing brightly when he suddenly spun her on the spot.

No matter how lovely it was inside, Rebecca found herself wishfully staring at the door leading to the outside – to the fresh air. That was when she saw the bat-like figure of Snape leaving the Great Hall, Karkaroff on his heels. She found herself staring blankly at the place the two men had been, her senses suddenly oblivious to anything else occuring in her surroundings. There was something about the way Professor Snape was rushing out that had spiked her interest. Without really stopping to think twice, she quietly weaved through the crowd, following them outside.

She knew that, if she wanted any hopes of overhearing the men's conversation, she would have to hide. With the Slytherins, Snape was still a very private and reserved individual. Spotting the two from a distance, Rebecca ducked into the shadows.

"Igor, I told you to stop seeking conversation with me."

"Severus, you cannot keep ignoring it! The mark. The Dark Mark! You must have noticed it too!"

"I don't see what all the fuss is about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening. It has been getting clearer and clearer for months. I'm becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it!"

"Then flee. Flee. I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Adrenaline rushed through Rebecca's veins, her breath caught in her throat. She took the sudden exclamation of Potter's name as her queue to leave, rushing to return to the safety of the Great Hall.

"Hey, hey! Watch where you're going Myers!" Draco suddenly appeared behind a pillar as Rebecca had turned the corner, "I'm wearing a nice set of robes, you wouldn't want to damage them."

"Yes, of course. Sorry."

"What's all the rush?" he asked, looking down at her flushed face.

"Oh, nothing," Rebecca lied, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "I just realized I hadn't told Theo where I was going."

Draco looked behind her, "you overheard Snape's conversation, didn't you?"

Seeing Becca's shocked expression, he rolled his eyes and continued, "I saw you follow him out here, you dimwit. You're sly but you're not as sly as me. What were they saying? You look upset."

"Malfoy, Myers. What are you doing?" Rebecca's eyes widened, recognizing the voice.

"Professor Snape," Rebecca turned, shooting an angry glare at Draco. "We were just talking."

"About...?"

"I was asking Myers for some dancing tips," Draco said calmly, staring at Snape, "I saw her and Theo dancing. I mean, everyone saw them dancing, and I wanted some advice. The music was too loud inside, so we came out here to talk."

"Ah, Becca, there you are!" Theo exclaimed, trotting up to the group, but slowing down when he saw Snape.

Snape seemed to take his time to glare at the each of one, as if daring one of them to tell the truth. "Alright. Though next time be more careful of where you choose to talk."

When Snape was out of earshot, Rebecca murmured, "He's one to talk..."

Draco groaned, turning and walking away. "Hey!" Rebecca called after him.

"Leave him," Theo said, handing her a drink. "Let's go back inside."


	5. Chapter 4

With a gentle tapping, snow fell steadily from the grey skies above, hitting the window. Much to the children's disappointment, it didn't seem to be setting. It did, however, make that morning's hot chocolate that little bit more comforting. It was the last day before everyone would be returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas break, and with it came the usual bittersweet emotion of not wanting to go back to school, but also really looking forward to it.

Theo and Daphne had joined Rebecca for the Christmas holidays, experiencing their first muggle christmas. The Myers household wasn't anything special. A modest semi-detached house in the Southeast of London, it provided everything the two-member family needed. The furnishing was rather simple: a large couch covered in fluffy blankets, a small round dining table, and a brick fireplace whose mantlepiece was covered in pictures of Rebecca and her father. The bookshelves, on the other hand, were filled with recipe books and sport awards Rebecca had won over the years.

"Look, honey, we don't have to do this…"

"No, Dad, you keep boasting about how you got your black belt at 16 – I've got to keep up!"

David sighed, his head dropping, "Alright, alright. This time, watch me first. You want to carry through with the kick a bit. Don't just stop once you hit the target, or you'll lose your balance."

Rebecca stood to aside, crossing her arms as she watched her father take a step back, spin, jump, and kick their imaginary target before landing firmly on the ground. "Okay… I think I got it…"

She took a deep breath, conjuring up a target in her mind. Then, in an almost exact replica of David's moves she too took a step back, spun, jumped, and kicked the imaginary target before landing firmly on the ground.

The man smiled, letting out a small cry of happiness. "There you go! See, you just had to pay attention to what I was doing before attempting it yourself."

"David?" Theo's head poked around the corner, a little spot of flour still on his nose.

"Rabbit, what's up?"

"The timer went off."

"Ah ha! That means the cookies are ready, to the kitchen!"

Rebecca and Theo followed David out of the living room to the kitchen, where Daphne was sitting by the counter, eyeing the oven wearily from the top of her book. Rebecca pulled out a stool, sitting by her friend's side, while Theo continued to follow David to stare at the oven. He, in particular, seemed very fascinated by these muggle technologies.

It was quite a contrasting image, seeing David with an apron on. Standing at 6'4", he tended to loom over people; and, that was not taking into account his big-boned muscular constitution. He liked to joke about how Rebecca's mother used to say he looked like a lumberjack when he was younger, and David just decided to lean into it: going full beard and manbun. Even now, in his early 50s with grey hairs appearing amongst the dark brown, he was still going for and acing that look.

Humming slightly, he opened the oven, taking the trays of cookies out one by one. "No! Theo, don't touch the oven. You'll burn your hands," David shouted out suddenly, slapping Theo's hand away before he touched the open oven door.

"Right, sorry sir," Theo apologized sheepishly, shuffling back as he eyed the oven wearily.

David sighed before smiling softly, closing the door. "You've got to be more careful, Theo. If you get hurt you'll be stuck with non-magic medicine–"

"–and those are so much more painful than the wizarding equivalent," Rebecca finished off, a shiver running up her spine. Theo's attention vanished in front of her as he leaned over to watch and help David transfer the cookies off the baking trays.

Taking his oven mitts off, David pulled down his sleeves despite the fact that they would not go down any further. "So, Daph, is that book of any help?"

Daphne nodded, closing the book and setting it on the counter. "Mmmh… I definitely want to try out some of the tricks it suggests. Would you mind if I borrow it?"

"You can keep it, it's better off in your hands than in mine," David smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter, "you said you wanted to be a… what do you people call it?"

"Healer, yeah. My grades…" Daphne sighed, "aren't quite up to the standard."

"Oh, don't say that Daph, you're improving so much."

"Becca, come on, we both know that there's no way I'm getting an O in potions."

"You know, my wife used to say the exact same thing. But, with a little bit of elbow grease and a few sleepless nights, she still managed to become a doctor. I'm sure you'll get there too. Anyway, you've got two friends here who will be more than happy to help you, right?" David said, eyeing Rebecca.

She quickly nodded, knowing best not to hesitate when it came to these kinds of questions. "Of course. Except Herbology. Because I'm barely passing that class."

"But she's acing potions! Did you see the look on Malfoy's face when December exam results came out? Oh, it was priceless…" Theo cackled, leaning back against the kitchen counter next to David, crossing his arms, like David. The older man had noticed this, but opted not to say anything, giving Rebecca a small smirk. "Oh, Becca. Did you ever tell Daph what we overheard at the Yule Ball?"

"You overheard something?"

Rebecca nodded, watching as her father turned around to begin cleaning the trays. Theo hesitated for a millisecond, but he too turned to help clean. "Snape and Karkaroff went off to talk in private."

"And you followed them?" Daphne raised an eyebrow, looking incredulously at Rebecca, "you?"

"Yeah..."

"You?"

"Yes, Daph. I followed them. Don't… don't ask why."

"What did they say?"

"I didn't hear much… Karkaroff was saying something about some Dark Mark becoming clearer– Dad, you okay?"

"Hmm?" David turned to look at the children with a smile, tugging at the end of his sleeve, "yes, sorry. The tray just slipped out of my hands."

"What do you think it means?" Theo asked, picking the tray up from the ground and handing it back to David.

Rebecca shrugged, "No idea. But it can't be good, right? Maybe that's why Mad-Eye has been interrogating students – try to figure out what we know."

"Well. We all know his interrogations were a massive success…" Theo grumbled, "It has been the lowest Slytherin average for Defence Against the Dark Arts in a century."

David smiled, clapping his hands. "Now, I know you three would love to come up with theories on the possible going of Hogwarts, but let's get our priorities straight: cookies. We have to make the icing. Daph, want to decide what colours we are to use?"

Daphne nodded, standing up and walking over to look at the cookies.

"And Theo… I have my eyes on you. Icing eating is for after the cookies are done, not before."

"Yes, sir!" Theo chirped with a sloppy grin, raising his hand and giving David a small salute.

* * *

"Oi! You're not going to forget to say goodbye to me, right?"

"Of course not, I'm not a monster," Rebecca grinned, tackling the burly man. He hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head.

"Have fun, okay?

"I will."

"And be careful."

"Dad, nothing is going to go wrong. There'll be a ton of guards and other wizards."

"I know…" he murmured, "but I don't trust them."

"Of course you don't. Four years, Dad. Four years in the wizarding world and you still don't trust any of them."

"Ah, I wouldn't say I don't trust any of them. I trust this little witch right here!"

"Dad! Don't ruffle my hair!"

"Too late! Run off now, it's not nice to keep your friends waiting."

Nodding, Rebecca rushed over to the train entrance carrying a pair of boxes, where Theo and Daphne were waiting for her, also carrying two boxes each.

"Dude, we're going to be so popular in the common room for the next week," Theo said, grinning happily.

Rebecca laughed, "six boxes worth of sugar cookies…"

"Myers' Specialty Sugar Cookies," Daphne corrected her, glancing wistfully at the boxes.

"How about we store five boxes, and eat one now on the train?"

"I love that plan…"

"Theo, Daphne… Myers."

"Ah, look, it's Draco," Rebecca smiled, setting down the boxes in their usual train compartment. "Have a good Christmas?"

Draco shrugged, "what are all these?"

"The best cookies you will ever taste," Theo said, opening a box and handing Draco a cookie.

He eyed it cautiously, "I doubt it… my mother is a superior baker. No muggle would be able to surpass her."

"Well, we wouldn't know, since you never share the goddamn baked goods, Malfoy," Theo snorted, crossing his arms.

"Just eat the cookie, Draco."

"Hey Becca…" Daph murmured, nudging Rebecca, "your father and Lucius are talking…"

It was quite a sight: the tall, thin figure of Lucius Malfoy with his luxurious blonde locks standing a mere foot from David Myers. The two men had never gotten along, but sometimes Rebecca got the feeling that it went beyond a simple conflict of personalities and pureblood supremacy. Handshakes were strength contests, and children were tests of who was the better parent. There was something about the way Narcissa Malfoy would look at David that unsettled Rebecca deeply, but she couldn't lay a finger on what it was.

"I give the cookie a P."

"Hey, for Malfoy, that is an O in everyone else's books."

"Hey, Rebecca!" David shouted from the platform, Lucius standing crossed armed next to him. Rebecca stood up, leaving her compartment to hop back onto the platform.

"What?" she asked, politely nodding to Lucius before looking at her father

"Study hard."

"Did you really call me out just to tell me that?"

"Well, I have a bet going against Mr. Lucius over here. I do kinda need you to outscore his kid."

"Dad… again?"

"It worked last time."

"Of course it worked, I'm amazing."

"So, kick Malfoy's ass, will you?"

"I will. Love you, Dad."

"Love you too," David smiled, his eyes lingering on his daughter's face. Hugging her slightly tighter than usual, he added "Crispy."

"Dad!" Rebecca cried out, her father giving her a firm slap on the back as he laughed wholeheartedly. "You know I don't like that nickname!"

"I know, I know. I just couldn't resist it. Now hurry up or you'll miss the train. I'll see you in June."

She ran back into the train, her eyes scanning for blonde as soon as she returned to the Slytherin's usual compartment, "Draco…" she grinned with a glint in her eye.

"What?" Draco muttered, turning to look at Rebecca with a strong air of annoyance.

"Seems the bet is on again," she said, pointing out of the window where her father and Lucius stood, once again engaged in a very tense conversation.

Draco scowled, "I will beat you this time."

"Don't count your owls before they're delivered."

Rebecca took her seat in between Theo and Daphne just as the Hogwarts' Express gave its final whistle, and the platform outside began to move away. She didn't notice the fight breaking out next to her between Blaise and Theo over who got to hold the box of biscuits, her focus taken by looking at the sudden darkening of David's expression. She turned to look at Draco, who was eyeing the box now confiscated by a frustrated Daphne. Suddenly, Rebecca realized that she did not really care for the bet – she never did. The way Draco was holding back from grabbing another biscuit, he cared more about his reputation than Rebecca cared for her's.

Holding back a sigh, she looked back out of the window where the platform and her father once were. One way or another, she was not going to let Draco win.


	6. Chapter 5

_Heya Becca,_

 _Have I entered a baking competition against Mrs Malfoy? Well. I will show her that you don't need magic to whip up some sugary delicacies! To start this bake-off, I've sent enough brownies to feed all of Slytherin house. I've also added a special batch just for our moody Head of House. That's the small green box, give it directly to him, alright? No tasting – it contains ingredients unsafe for your young minds and bodies._

 _How are things at Hogwarts by the way? Everything normal? Things must be ramping up with the second task right around the corner._

 _I'm glad Theo and Daph had a good time at our place over Christmas! Let them know it was good having them over. Though maybe tell Theo to watch his mouth? I'm seeing a heavy-swearing future for him. As for Daph: Tell her to just believe in herself a bit more and she'll achieve great things._

 _Love you!_

 _Dad_

 _P.S. Remember the bet…._

* * *

The potion's classroom was veiled by a thin purple mist as Rebecca walked in, carrying the small green box in between her hands. She was curious about what was in the box… her father had sealed it, making it impossible for her to open without it being known. It would be something to pester him about over summer. Snape was at the far end of the classroom, hunched over his desk as he furiously wrote on a piece of parchment with a red quill.

"Professor?"

"Myers, what can I do for you at this hour?" he said, his eyes flickering up to look at Rebecca.

"I brought you a little gift."

"You know I cannot accept gifts from students."

"It's from my father," Rebecca said, walking up to Snape's desk and placing the green box on his desk.

"Your… father?" Snape paused in his writing, although his gaze remained fixed on the parchment.

"Slytherin House is having a bake-off."

"A what?"

"A bake-off."

"Don't you students have better things to do than cooking competitions?"

"It's Mrs Malfoy versus Mr Myers, it's really just a lot of eating for us."

"And what is this box?"

"Well, we can't leave our Head of House out of the competition," Rebecca smiled. "My father wanted to include you in the fun."

"This is a silly competition," Snape grumbled, resuming his grading. He then spoke in a muffled whisper, "Myers will be the obvious winner."

"I'm sorry – what did you just say?"

"You may leave, Myers."

"So, can I tell my father that you've accepted the gift?"

"Yes."

"Cool, cool. See you in class tomorrow Professor!"

It was five minutes after Rebecca left the room that Snape finally stopped his grading. His eyes drifted up to the small green box, lingering on it. Carefully, he set down his quill, bringing the box closer to him. He undid its seal, opening it. A faint smile spreading across his face.

"David, you bastard…"

* * *

"Becca! Thank you for coming,"

"Of course. Anything for you, Hermione," Rebecca smiled, walking up to the table where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sitting.

"Harry, Ron, this is Rebecca Myers. She's my favourite study partner and friend."

"Pleasure to officially meet, Potter."

"Hermione, how do we know she's not going to try to sabotage me?" If Harry was attempting to whisper this to his friends, he had failed. Rebecca raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, she could be in cahoots with Malfoy and all those other Slytherin-no-goods."

"Believe it or not, we're not all Malfoy's henchmen, Potter." Rebecca snorted.

"Guys, we've been trying to figure this out with no luck. We need the extra pair of eyes and brain, and I trust Becca," Hermione said, glancing up at Rebecca with a smile. Rebecca returned the gesture with a small smile of her own.

With a hesitant nod, Harry and Ron gave the Slytherin girl permission to sit down at the table. "So, is someone going to tell me exactly what problem we're trying to solve?"

"Harry has to fetch something from the bottom of the lake," Hermione explained.

"Oh man, you're fucked."

"Thanks, Myers. Great to see you will be a useful contribution to the team." Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Look, apart from the obvious breathing problem… the Slytherin common room has windows that look into the lake–"

"No way, we had no idea…" Ron murmured under his breath, lowering his gaze away from Rebecca's.

"You… you guys have snuck into our common room, haven't you? You know what, I'm just going to turn a blind eye to that. Anyway, there are numerous creatures that live in that lake. I hope for your sake that you're a good swimmer."

"He's not."

"Non-verbal spell casting?"

"Nope."

"Yeah man, I keep my previous statement: you are fucked."

* * *

Rebecca was sitting on her bed, flipping through Numerology and Grammatica, not really reading it. Staring at numbers upon numbers was making her mind go blank, and her attention was shifting to the latest Holyhead Harpies match rather than studying for her test. Daphne was sitting on her own bed working on her Charms essay, her face scrunched in total concentration.

With a sudden bang, the door to the girl's dormitory burst open as Pansy dashed in, sobbing loudly. Exchanging glances, Daphne jumped up and rushed to her roommates side, knocking over her quill. Rebecca got up more slowly, picking up Daphne's quill to avoid it from staining the bedsheets, and then standing by Pansy's bedpost.

"Pansy, what's wrong?" Daphne murmured softly, rubbing soothing circles on Pansy's back.

"D-Draco... b-b-broke up... with... m-me!" Pansy cried in words broken by sobs.

"Oh no, dear, come here..." Daphne sighed, bringing Pansy into an embrace. "It's going to be okay..."

Rebecca took a step back, feeling incredibly uncomfortable standing there watching Pansy cry. In fact, the longer she stood there listening to the cries, her brain felt ever closer to exploding. These kinds of emotions weren't really her thing. She looked at Daphne mouthing 'Can I go?'

Daphne glared at Rebecca as she continued to stroke the sobbing Pansy. The two friends stared at each other, silently arguing over whether or not Rebecca should be allowed to leave. Rebecca won that argument, Daphne rolling her eyes and glancing at the open door. Grabbing her robes and wand, Rebecca quickly ran out of the dorm before Daphne could change her mind.

"You're so mean, leaving Daphne to deal with Pansy alone," Theo said as he watched Rebecca walk out into the common area, setting his magazine down on his lap. Everyone's eyes were on Rebecca, Pansy's cries echoing throughout the common room.

"Oh shush. This is Daphne's strength, I've learnt that it is best to just let her work her magic."

"You know, if it wasn't for her grades, Daphne would make an excellent healer," Blaise mumbled from his spot on the couch, his eyes never leaving his potions textbook.

Rebecca nodded, "anyone seen Draco? I've got a feeling he's gonna need a friend too, and none of you are exactly emotional geniuses."

"You're one to talk…" Theo grumbled under his breath, flipping the page of his magazine, "didn't you just run away from Daph and Pansy?"

"I can't handle crying," Rebecca corrected, "Goyle, Crabbe. You two are always glued by Draco's side, do you know where he is?"

"Malfoy? He's by the lake," Crabbe called out. Saying her thanks, Rebecca left the Slytherin Common Room. However, she did not go straight to the lake, there was somewhere else she had to go to first.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Rebecca got to the lake. By the water's edge was the solitary figure of Draco Malfoy, hugging his knees close to his chest..

"Draco!"

"Myers?" Draco looked taken aback, turning to watch Rebecca approach, "I guess you heard..."

"Heard? Oh yeah. I'm pretty sure the entire castle heard Pansy's crying."

"That bad?" Draco asked softly.

Rebecca shrugged, "She'll be okay. Daphne is with her. I'm sure she's stopped crying by now. But I didn't come to talk about Pansy, I came to see how you were holding up."

Draco confusion seemed to grow on his face. "I'm alright..."

"Mind if I asked what happened?"

"I overheard her talking to some other Slytherin girls.. They were talking about me and, well."

"Unflattering?"

"It was as if she didn't even know me," he said, sighing softly, "She kept boasting about how she was dating a Malfoy."

Rebecca winced, "'a Malfoy'?"

Draco nodded. Rebecca watched him for a minute, neither one talking. "Well, up you get."

"What?"

"On your feet, Draco. I know just the thing to make you feel better. Follow me."

"Why are we at the Quidditch pitch?"

Rebecca went over to the side, picking up Draco's broom and tossing it over to him. "I grabbed our brooms, one quaffle, and a snitch. Thought it'd be best not to get a bludger since there's only two of us and neither of us are exactly beater-material."

"Myers... I..."

"Ten galleons I catch the snitch before you."

"Myers, do you even have ten galleons...?"

"I will when I catch the snitch before you. Come on, what do you say?"

Draco looked at his broom, a faint smile spreading across his face. He set his broom down on the floor, taking his robes off, undoing his tie, and rolling up his sleeves. "You're on."

Rebecca grinned as she tied her hair into a bun. "Now, no flying under me. I'm still wearing a skirt."

They lost track of time, zooming up and down the pitch. The sun had set and the moon was high in the sky when they both fell on the ground in exhaustion, laughing.

"You owe me ten galleons, Myers."

"Oh shut up, Draco. I scored more goals. I won the match. 210-190. You are terrible at scoring."

"The bet was on the snitch, not overall score."

"Fine. I'll give it to you once we get back to the common room."

"You have ten galleons?"

"Believe it or not, I do."

Draco laughed, chest still heaving. He looked at the snitch in his hand. "Thank you, Myers."

"Feel better now?"

"Yeah..."

"Good," she said, slowly rising to your feet, her spine cracking slightly, "because you're cleaning up."

"Hey!"

"I'm out ten galleons! Cut me some slack." Rebecca said as she picked up her tie and robes, "oh I'm going to be so sore tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 6

_Hey Rebecca,_

 _Ahaha! I knew I would win. Non-magic folk 1 – Wizards 0. And, just to rub it in, I'm sending another box of my famous chocolate muffins and sugar cookies. Like always, the small green box is for our little human bat. I know he loves my concoctions although he may not verbally exclaim it._

 _Exam results must be coming out soon, right? How did exams go? I know you had some complaints about Herbology. If we win our bet against Mr Lucius Malfoy, we can take that trip to Canada, as I've always promised. So, no pressure ;)_

 _I am so pumped to have you home in two weeks._

 _Love,_

 _Dad_

* * *

The following weeks seemed to pass even faster than before. In between exams and the finale of the Triwizard tournament, Rebecca felt like as if she did not have a minute to catch her breath. Hermione had also scouted her to help Harry practice for the final task, although Rebecca was slowly coming to the conclusion that they might have just wanted to use a Slytherin as a punching bag.

"Alright, Weasley. It's your turn to get blasted," she said, groaning slightly as she stood up. Rubbing her shoulder painfully, she switched places with Ron.

"Thank you for helping us, Becca." Hermione said with a smile, gently patting Rebecca's shoulder.

"Glad to be of some use. Though the only thing I've taught Potter is the Protego charm."

"And Bombarda Maxima," Harry added as he waited for Ron to stand back up.

"You've got Theo to thank for that one," Rebecca chuckled slightly under her breath, "He uses it a lot. You must be glad that this is almost over, though."

Harry nodded, "It would be nice to have a normal school year for a change."

"Well, I know the other Slytherins may not admit it, but we're cheering for you too."

"Even Malfoy?" Ron asked, cracking his shoulders, as he mentally prepared himself to receive another spell.

"Jury is still out." Rebecca mused, watching as Ron was promptly sent flying to the other side of the room. "He's too annoyed by the fact that we've been banned from the Quidditch pitch to really think of much else at the moment."

"It is a crime, what they've done to the quidditch pitch," Ron murmured bitterly. Harry and Rebecca nodding furiously in agreement. Hermione said nothing, but Rebecca spotted her rolling her eyes.

The following day, Rebecca was swept up in the festivities as much as everyone else. She had managed to convince Theo and Daphne to go sit with Hermione and Ron, not that it took much convincing. With Blaise off sitting with the Hufflepuffs, only Crabbe, Goyle, Draco, and Pansy sat at the 4th Year Slytherin's usual spot and the tension within the group was palpable. Or, mainly, the tension between Draco and Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were too thick to realize anything was going on.

Once the race started, there wasn't much for the spectators to see. Instead, the four of them began chatting, Ron hesitating to talk with the other Slytherins and instead opting to talk with Seamus.

Hermione was very intent on talking about Rita Skitta, but neither Theo, Daphne, nor Rebecca were particularly willing to fall down that rabbit hole; so, eventually Hermione gave up and started up a conversation with Theo over Wizarding laws and law enforcement. Rebecca tried to talk with Daphne, but her friend's attention was taken by doting on a nearby Beauxbaton girl.

"He's back! Voldemort is back!"

All emotion drained out of Rebecca as she watched the scene unfurl in front of her. Her eyes lingered on the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory, even when the running crowd pushed her around as they rushed to get on the ground, still unaware of what had happened.

There was that familiar clicking in her brain, followed by that feeling she could only describe as 'queasy.' She heard the crying, the screams, the pain and sorrow, but it all seem distant and foreign to her.

How did no one see this coming?

Then it snapped. She knew what that feeling was: powerlessness. And she did not like it.

* * *

"Today, a fellow student has fallen. He may not have been a Slytherin, but he was still one of us: a Hogwarts student."

Everyone was quiet, listening to the words of the Slytherin Prefect as he stood in front of the fire. The couches, chairs, and floor were covered with students: every Slytherin from first to seventh year had gathered, holding each other, comforting each other.

Daphne's grip tightened on Astoria. The little girl still sobbing quietly into her older sister's shoulder.

"No one deserves this. Especially not Hufflepuff. Not Cedric Diggory."

Blaise closed his eyes, lowering his head as he tightened his hands into fists. His shirt was still damp from MacMillan's tears.

"He and I… we may have not always seen eye-to-eye, but he was a good wizard… a good man. It was always an honour to compete against him. His loss will be felt throughout the Wizarding World. To Cedric!"

"Myers?" Snape had walked into the common room a few hours later. No one had gone to sleep, no one could.

Rebecca had just returned from the kitchens, carrying trays of hot chocolate she was helping Blaise distribute. It was the only way either one of them knew how to help crying first and seventh years. "Professor? Is everything alright?"

"You're needed in Professor Dumbledore's office."

"Now? It's the early hours of the morning… can't this wait?"

Snape shook his head, "You need to go, now."

•·················•·················•

"Your father was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Laughter escaped in between Rebecca's fingers, "April Fools was over 2 months ago, Professor. My father was a muggle. A muggle accountant. I've always known you had a quirky sense of humour, but at least get your facts straight first."

"Ms Myers, your father was no muggle. He was a pure-blood wizard."

"No. No… my father was an accountant. A friendly, neighbourhood accountant that despite being over 50 years old still lets out childish screams at the sight of owls."

"Ms Myers–"

"No. My father never attended Hogwarts. He's– he's not a wizard."

"He attended Ilvermony with your mother."

Rebecca didn't speak, closing her eyes and burying her face in her hands. Dumbledore didn't make a sound as he watched her take steady, measured breaths. Slowly, Rebecca lowered her hands, her arms resting on her thigh, her gaze fixed on some indiscript point ahead of her, "Who was he then?"

"I must admit, I do not know the full story," Dumbledore mused, leaning back in his chair, "I know he came here in the early 1970s and joined the Death Eaters. When the First Wizarding War ended, he slipped through the ministry's cracks and vanished from the Wizarding world."

"Vanished?"

"Yes. Vanished from the face of the Wizarding world without a trace, not even a paper trail from the 10 years before the war ended."

Rebecca raised her eyes to meet Dumbledore's, their gazes locking. Outside, birds began singing their morning songs, oblivious to the crestfallen castle. It was when Rebecca looked away, leaning back in her chair, that Dumbledore spoke. "Unfortunately, as your father betrayed Lord Voldemort, he decided to make an example of him to the other Death Eaters."

"Why did he let me attend Hogwarts?"

"Remember the first day we met?"

Slowly, Rebecca nodded.

"I convinced your father that, for your own safety you'd be allowed to study magic. In case Voldemort ever did return."

"And Vol…" Rebecca exhaled softly, "Voldemort has returned."

"I'm afraid he has."

"And he's murdered my father, which means..."

"Your safety is now in danger."

Once more the birds became the dominant sound, but this time Rebecca was watching them through the small window at the side of Dumbledore's office. Gradually, the sound of her fingertips rhythmically tapping the armrest seemed to drown out the songs. "What do we do now?"

"I'd like some time to judge whether or not Voldemort has made you a target before we make any drastic decisions," Dumbledore explained, "have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

When Rebecca shook her head, Dumbledore continued, "They are a group of wizards that fought against Voldemort the first time. I would like you to stay with them, at least for the summer. We can sort out the logistics tomorrow afternoon, I realize that this is quite a lot to take in at such early hours of the morning."

Rebecca nodded, raising from her chair, "Would that be all?"

For a second time, blue met hazel and a tense silence befell the room. It was Dumbledore who closed his eyes first, letting out a weary breath, "That will be all. I will have Professor Snape fetch you when I'm ready."

"Alright, thank you Professor," Rebecca said, giving the old man a grateful nod before heading towards the door.

"Rebecca," Dumbledore suddenly called out, moments before the auburn-haired witch left the room, "Everything will be alright."

She paused under the door frame for a second before turning to look at him with a soft smile, "I know."

Rebecca was in the deserted hallway in front of the Headmaster's office, finally alone. She was standing still, her gaze unfocused. Around her, the shadows of the window frames were slowly moving with the rising sun, the stone's night blue tint turning orange. Rebecca closed her eyes, listening to the birds and the occasional swoosh of a ghost phasing through a wall, the cold smell of morning dew oddly unfamiliar. In fact, the only thing she could still recognize was the slow and steady beating of her heart and the clicking in her brain.

She set down the corridor unrushed, her hands in tight fists at either side. However, she did not go to the dungeons, but straight to the unguarded front door. Slipping out, she felt the morning breeze hit her face and before Rebecca realized it, she was running. She concentrated on the feeling of the air and the ground beneath her feet, not on wherever she was running to. It was only when her legs gave out that she stopped, her breathing heavy and laboured.

The instant she stopped running, her mind did. Rebecca's thoughts went to her father, the man she once thought she knew so well. The man she trusted and idolized. Her mind kept racing, running through every memory she had of her father, her only family.

David and Irene Myers: pureblood wizards? No, she couldn't believe it. But then, there were gaps in her knowledge of her parents. Gaps she had ignored that hadn't seemed important until now. Gaps that no one in Hogwarts, not even Dumbledore, would be able to answer.

And with that, Rebecca knew what she had to do.


End file.
